Saving Grace (Serve and Protect Series)

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Saving Grace (Serve and Protect Series) Page 16

by Wilson, Norah


  “You won’t.” She stroked him, delighting in the contradiction. Steel and velvet. “I’m not a doll. I won’t break.”

  “The baby....”

  The baby. She’d forgotten. Then she remembered the ER doctor’s advice. “Sex is perfectly safe. The doctor said so.”

  He needed no further prompting. One wrench and the blankets were gone. Then they were rolling on the sheets, hands tugging at each other’s nightclothes, baring skin. As soon as they were naked, he rolled her under him. She would have slid her arms around him to welcome him, but he captured them, lifting them over her head. Pinning them there, he kissed her, deep and thrilling. Too soon, he pulled away, rolling off her. She tried to follow to preserve the friction of his moist skin on hers, but he held her fast.

  “Wait, sweetheart. I want to look at you.”

  She thought the wanting couldn’t get any worse, but she was wrong. Watching his eyes turn hotter as he surveyed her trembling body, she felt everything liquify.

  “I love your breasts.”

  “They’re too big,” she said automatically.

  “They’re perfect. Look at them.”

  She looked down and had to concede they looked different like this, with her body stretched like a bowstring, arms uplifted. Their rosy tips tightened instantly, as though his gaze had brushed them. Couldn’t he see they needed touching? “Please....”

  “Please what?”

  “Please touch me.”

  And he did. One hand holding her arms above her head, he touched her with the other hand. Beside him, she twisted, burning, dying, as he tweaked first one nipple, then the other, pinching, shaping, squeezing. She hardly recognized her own voice begging for more, asking for his mouth, his lips, his teeth. Then, in one swift move, he straddled her.

  The length of his erection rested in the seam between her closed thighs, inciting a sharp new need. Moaning, she tried to pull him down, desperate to have him inside her. But he pushed her arms back, using his hands to weigh them down as he swooped to catch the up-turned tip of one breast with his mouth.

  Oh, God! He’d pleasured her breasts before, taken long, leisurely delight there. But this was different. He came at her with hot, rough, frantic need, first one breast, then the other. She arched against him, sensations ripping through her like lightning.

  “Please, Ray!”

  He answered her plea by sliding down her body, his mouth racing over wildly sensitized skin, biting, sucking, kissing, his hands streaking over the wet path his mouth left. The swell of her rib cage, the slight curve of her belly. Onward to the curve of her hip, the smooth length of her thigh, the sensitive backs of her knees, down to her slender ankles. Then back up, up, up....

  “Ray!” She clamped her legs together, more from reflex than conscious decision.

  “Let me, Grace. I want to taste you.”

  Her ingrained inhibition warred with profound excitement. The latter would have won, but he didn’t wait for the outcome of the bout. Parting her thighs, he pressed his open mouth to the heart of her femininity. The shock went straight to her core.

  “Oh, God, Ray! Ray. Ray?”

  He turned his head and bit her thigh gently. “Ray what?”

  “Don’t stop!”

  He didn’t. With lips and tongue and fingers, he pleasured her until she flew apart, trembling, shaking, crying. Only then did he slide back up her perspiration-dewed skin to cover her mouth with his, letting her taste her own fulfillment.

  At last, she was able to slide her arms around him, pull him down. She’d already found her release, but she was mindful that he hadn’t. Catching his engorged member, she guided him to her entrance. The feel of him pushing into her even as her muscles contracted and pulsed with her dying orgasm felt like nothing she’d ever experienced. He felt huge. He was invading her. Oh, God, she’d never be able to take him. Yet she’d die if she didn’t have him now, this minute.

  “Ray....”

  He covered her mouth again and sank into her, burying himself to the hilt. She gasped. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

  “Okay?”

  She let her breath escape. “Okay. Better than okay.”

  “Good enough to come again?”

  Again? Impossible. “I can’t.”

  “You can. For me, you can.”

  And so saying, he set about proving her completely, totally, deliciously wrong. He filled her. He completed her. And he brought her to another sobbing climax before he took the same leap.

  Afterward, Grace cradled his crushing weight in her arms, savoring every inch, every ounce of him. Dear Lord, she loved him so much. No wonder she’d sacrificed her own happiness to keep him safe from that lunatic, Landis. She’d die before she let that murderous bastard get at Ray.

  Landis. Viktor Landis.

  Her body went still as it came back to her in a rush.

  Human smuggling, forced labor and Lord knew what else. She’d stumbled on it, trying to research what was to have been a comprehensive piece for the newspaper on integrating landed immigrants into the local community.

  Oh, God. Oh, no.

  That’s why she’d been leaving town.

  That’s where the money came from.

  She was supposed to leave for good. If she did, Landis said he’d let her live. If she didn’t go and stay gone, he’d kill her.

  But not before he killed Ray.

  And just in case she had any ideas about going to the cops for help, he’d feed the get-away money into Ray’s account, leaving a trail the shallowest of investigations would disclose. People loved to think the worst of each other when it came right down to it, Landis had smirked. Especially if he, Landis, confirmed it with just the right degree of sheepishness. There’d be no difficulty convincing them Ray was dirty, he’d assured her. If she didn’t comply, not only would her handsome husband die, he’d die marked as a corrupt cop.

  “I love you, Grace.” Ray’s voice was gravel, guttural, pulling her back. “Whatever happened, I don’t care.” His arms tightened around her, cutting off her breath. “I just want you back. I want us back.”

  Grace returned his crushing bear hug with a desperation of her own.

  He lifted his head and looked deep in her eyes. “You hear me, Grace? I don’t goddamn care. You’re mine. I love you.”

  Tears spurted. “I love you, too.”

  “We’ll work it out, about the baby. Okay? I’ll take care of you, no matter what.”

  The baby. It was his, of course. There’d never been another man. She’d made it up to keep him from following her. Mother of God. Her heart was breaking.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  He rolled off her, pulling her into another fierce hug. She returned the pressure, wishing she could hold on to him like this forever. Wishing she could enjoy the security of his embrace tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.

  Except she knew she couldn’t. She had to leave him again. But this time, it wouldn’t be good enough just to get out of town. It was far too late for that. This time, she had to do something about Landis, before he did something about Ray.

  Ray woke with a sense of foreboding in his gut. Lying there with his eyes partially opened, he tried to analyze the source of his unease. The air conditioner hummed as usual, and the traffic on the highway sounded right for the time‌—‌almost 9:00 a.m. according to the digital clock on the night stand.

  Grace.

  He sat up, scanning the room. Where was she? The door to the bathroom stood ajar, but there were no sounds issuing from it. She’d left the room. He felt her absence in his very marrow. But she wasn’t long gone; he could almost feel the echo of her.

  Panic blossomed in his chest. Dammit, what was she doing, going out there all alone?

  Calm down, Morgan. She’d probably just run across the parking lot to the café for her beloved coffee. He’d wander over there and give her an escort back. He grabbed his jeans and hauled them on.

  Man, oh, man, she
was something last night. As he pulled an enormous black t-shirt over his head, he thought about what they’d done together. Hell, he was half-hard again, he realized, and laughed.

  Hard to believe, especially after that last time. In the full light of morning, she’d shed her shyness to climb astride him, taking his aching need into her warm woman’s body. He’d let her control their union that time, and she’d rewarded him by making slow, sweet, mind-blinding love to him.

  Half-hard, hell. Looking down at the decided tent pole effect he’d achieved, he laughed. Okay, score one for the baggy-assed pants.

  To give things a minute to settle down, he brushed his teeth quickly and ran a comb through his hair, grinning at his reflection. He looked years younger, and it had little to do with the damned yellow hair.

  Nor was it just the sex, though that had been great.

  No, correction‌—‌it had been fantastic.

  But the biggest kick of all was that he loved her more now than ever, and she loved him right back. She’d said so.

  He’d had another epiphany, too, one that put him on top of the world. The baby Grace carried was his. It had to be. This guy she’d met might have mesmerized his Gracie, but she wouldn’t have slept with him. Not yet.

  No matter how wrongheaded Ray had been in trying to keep her ... what? ... pure? ... she wouldn’t have done it. No matter how sexually stifled she might have felt, she’d need to make the break with him before she’d consummate the other relationship. That was just how she was made. If he hadn’t been so eaten up with jealousy, he’d have seen it sooner.

  Yeah, they had some challenges ahead of them, all right, like staying alive until they could clear themselves. But as far as their marriage was concerned, they’d work things out. Anything was possible this morning.

  Whistling, he found his wallet and shoved it in his pocket, then poked his feet into the hightop runners. He was halfway to the door when it struck him‌—‌his gun. It should have been in his shoe.

  Going back, he lifted the bed skirting and peered under the bed. Nothing. Likewise nothing in the drawer of the night stand, behind the night stand, under the night stand.

  How could he have lost his service weapon? Christ, they’d have his badge for this. He wasn’t even supposed to have it on him when he was off duty. Not to mention its disappearance would leave them unarmed.

  Think, Morgan.

  Would Grace have taken his weapon?

  Not likely. She hated guns. And she sure wouldn’t take it for a quick skip across the parking lot.

  Unless....

  No, she wouldn’t leave him. Not again. Not after last night.

  Still, his heart thundered in his throat as he yanked the shaving kit out of his gym bag and unzipped it.

  Though most of the cash remained, he saw instantly that a couple of bundles of bills were missing.

  Numbly, he walked to the window and pulled the drapes back. The Toyota was gone.

  Chapter 12

  GRACE DIDN’T BREAK ANY speed limits this time as she drove the highway between Saint John and Fredericton. Nor were her eyes blinded by tears. She couldn’t afford another accident.

  She was past tears now, anyway. Not even picturing Ray waking up in that dismal motel room to the realization that she’d left him again could make her cry. Since she’d made her decision this morning, an eerie calm had descended on her. A calm she was going to need if she were going to make this desperate plan work.

  She grimaced. Not that it was much of a plan. It pretty much just involved getting close enough to the Russian to kill him with Ray’s gun. What had Ray said? Aim for the center of mass.

  Landis’s thugs would probably kill her. She knew that, accepted it, though she couldn’t dwell on the knowledge that her baby would die with her. She shied away from the thought, knowing instinctively that it carried the power to destroy the protective layer of ice her mind had laid down.

  What if, by some miracle, she survived the confrontation? The police would arrest her, of course, and she’d go to prison. But she’d get to have her baby....

  She jerked her thoughts back. Either way, Ray’d be safe, and that’s all that mattered. She’d gotten him into this when she blundered into Landis’s operations. Now, she’d get him out.

  She chewed her lip. Removing the Russian was only part of the equation. She’d need to explain about the money, how Landis wanted to neutralize Ray, the most persistent threat to his empire, by destroying Ray’s credibility. God willing, she’d be able to do it in person, but she couldn’t take that for granted. She’d write a note for the police. And another note for Ray.

  Ray. Though he’d be safe, and cleared of corruption allegations, he’d still be in plenty of hot water, particularly since she planned to use his gun in the commission of a homicide. But there was no help for it. An investigation would clear him. They’d see it was all her doing.

  She flicked on the radio and tuned in a rock station. Nickelback. Cranking the volume up, she willed the music to blow all thought from her mind. There was nothing left to think about.

  Back in Fredericton, Ray sat on the patio at the deli across the street from the cop shop, drinking his third cup of coffee. He’d paid for a full meal that he’d barely touched and tipped the lone waiter handsomely, so no one objected to his lingering on a Tuesday morning. Though he pretended to read a newspaper, his gaze behind tinted glasses was trained on one of the station’s exits.

  At four minutes after twelve, Sergeant John Quigley emerged, looked up and down the sidewalk. Ray felt Quigg’s glance brush over him, hesitating ever so slightly. Probably noting him as a potential dirtball. Then Quigg started off down Cumberland on foot.

  With a wave to the waiter, Ray headed east on Cumberland behind his Sergeant. He didn’t bother crossing the street. Quigg would cross to this side on the next block.

  Sure enough, at the next crosswalk, right behind a pair of suits, Quigg crossed the street. But instead of turning right as Ray expected, he continued east. No longer confident of Quigg’s destination, Ray picked up the pace. He’d closed to within half a half block when Quigg turned right, into an alley. Anxious not to lose him, Ray put on a burst of speed. He rounded the corner of the alley and almost slammed into Quigg.

  “About time you showed.”

  Ray swore. “I can’t believe this. You made me?”

  “Only because I’ve been looking for you every day for the last two weeks. Let me tell you, Razor, I was getting tired of leaving my doors unlocked, waiting for you to show up.”

  “You knew I’d come?”

  “Eventually. ’Course everyone else is thinking the same way. There’s a tap on my phone, I’m pretty sure.”

  “That’s why I didn’t call.” Ray glanced up as a group of teens passed the mouth of the alley, but he needn’t have worried. They didn’t even look sideways to check for possible vehicle traffic.

  He turned back to Quigg. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I didn’t come in?”

  Quigg shrugged. “I figured you had your reasons. Now, what do you need?”

  No lectures, no long-winded discourse on how Quigg was putting his career on the line to even talk to him. Just, What do you need? Ray swallowed hard.

  “To find Grace.”

  Quigg’s eyebrows shot up, something that didn’t happen too often. “I thought she was with you.”

  “She was. She left me again.”

  “Again?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I can’t wait to hear it. Listen, I’ll go get a vehicle. Give me ten minutes, I’ll cruise this alley and pick you up.”

  Eight minutes later, Ray slid into the backseat of the blue-and-white, staying down.

  “Okay, start talking, Razor,” Quigg said without turning his head. “Make me understand what’s going on here.”

  Ray talked. Quigg listened. And drove.

  Some ten minutes later, Quigg pulled the cruiser to a stop.

  “Okay, you can sit up no
w.”

  Ray eased himself up and glanced around the parking lot of the Delta Hotel. “Good choice.”

  “So, to recap, you think Grace’s memory returned this morning? That’s why she flitted?”

  “Yes.”

  “And finding out where the money came from is key to finding Grace?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t think she just took off again for parts unknown to meet this guy?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Because she loves me.

  He cleared his throat. “Because she’d have cleaned out the rest of the cash if that’s what she had in mind. She only took enough to keep her on the road a couple of days.”

  Quigg digested that. “So, what now? To the bank, to see what you can find out from the teller?”

  “That’s what I had in mind.”

  “Okay. I’ll drop you off in the parking garage and wait for you there. Then we’ll see what we can figure out with the information you’re able to glean. Now let’s get you up front. We don’t need to attract any more attention than we need to.”

  “Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”

  “I’ll say. I’m thinking your first born should take care of it.” Quigg got out of the car and opened the rear door.

  Ray climbed out. “Yeah, well, there’s actually one more detail I didn’t mention.”

  Quigg raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “Your chosen method of payment? Gracie’s incubating it.”

  “Oh, hell.”

  Forty minutes later, Ray strode out of the bank and into the parkade. Quigg was right where he’d said he’d be, second aisle. His friend held up four fingers in a gesture Ray understood. Ten-Four. Everything’s okay. After one last glance around, Ray returned the four-fingered salute.

  Moving quickly, he crossed the parking garage to Quigg’s cruiser, his brisk footfalls echoing inside the enclosed structure. Ray slid into the passenger seat.

  “Well? Find anything?”

  The radio crackled. Dispatch with a barking-dog call on the north side. Ray tuned it out. “Cash deposit made the same day Grace split. Ninety-five hundred dollars, in hundred-dollar bills. The teller remembers the transaction very well.”

 

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